


Somewhere Over The Sea

by thorvaenn



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Pirate, Breathplay, Corsetry, Crossdressing, Hand Jobs, Inspired by Pirates of the Caribbean, Kidnapping, M/M, Mistaken Identity, Misunderstandings, Pirates, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 20:30:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15127265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thorvaenn/pseuds/thorvaenn
Summary: The best way to carry a stolen dress was to wear it.Captain Thor Odinson has a lady to kidnap. That doesn't quite go according to plan.Giveaway fic forkingloptrwho asked for corsets and breathplay <3





	Somewhere Over The Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KingLoptr (Aestridr)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aestridr/gifts).



> Historical research here was done via the fact that I've watched the first POTC about 300 times.
> 
> Many thanks to Mona and Bucky for chatting about this with me.

 

A cannonball blew the settlement's gate into pieces just as they started to ring the alarm.

 

Thor grinned; Hogun's aim was impeccable as always.

  
  


His men swarmed the town easily, tearing into houses and demanding coin and valuables. Thor felt his blood pulsing hot with the thrill of the fight, nostrils filled with the sweet smell of smoke and fear. But despite all that, he kept his eyes trained firmly on the hill that crowned the town and upon it a house, a _palace_ even, where the true goal was hidden. His pistol at his belt and axe in hand, Thor ran up the stairs. The door didn't prove to be much of a challenge and he thrust into the hallway, polished stone underneath his boots, chaos all around as a few of the household members who had been trying to barricade themselves in scrambled back.

  
  


“Now,” he grinned. “Where's the lady?”

  
  


The lady was, of course, upstairs, hiding in her bedroom.

  
  


The chaos from the lower floor and the town fell away, the shouts and sounds of wood splintering and glass breaking mingling into one roar in the background. The bedroom was dark and smelled sweet, like roses and something chalky.

  
  


Thor took a deep breath, enjoying the luxury of it, before his eyes sharply caught on a figure, clad in a cloaked dress, pressed to the corner by the window.

  
  


She was tall, her face fully shrouded in shadow, but even in the dark Thor could see the her comely shape, the wide skirts and a flash of slim waist before she pulled her cloak tighter to her body.

  
  


“Apologies for the intrusion,” Thor said as he strode forward to grab her. “But I must insist you accompany me.”

  
  


* * *

 

He was sweating by the time they got back on Asgard, his load heavier than anticipated. He supposed it must be all the skirts. The lady also had a bulging satchel with her, which he had only noticed when he had tossed her from his shoulder and into the boat to take them back on board, but he had decided there was no harm in having her take it with her. He would examine the contents – perhaps they would be necessities for a lady, or some riches she hoped to hide before Thor and his men took them – later. It the latter was true, it would be a pleasant addition to the ransom they would get for her.

  
  


It was Fandral, his second in command, who had come up with the plan, after hearing gossip of one of the richest officer's upcoming nuptials. And why, the bride was not yet living in a stronghold, but in what was merely a glorified fishing village, ready to be taken.

  
  


Emboldened by the success, Thor pushed his prize into his cabin, locking the door before turning to his men. A couple of expectant eyes turned to him. Scoffing to himself, he shouted:

  
  


“Get moving, you lazy bunch, we're not out of the clear yet!”

 

That earned him a round of hoots and laughter as they all rushed to their places and they set sail. That later, there would be rum and merriment, was a given, and they knew it.

  
  


Pleased, he headed to the bridge to tune the fine details of their plan with Fandral and Hogun.

  
  


* * *

 

Loki was fucked. So fucked.

  
  


He had fucked up many, many times before, but never like this.

  
  


He would die for this, and probably in some very gruesome way too.

  
  


And it could have been so easily avoided, if only he had not dallied for so long, choosing his spoils, fastening them on with unnecessary care.

  
  


It had been such a great plan, born out of a not-so-great moment when he had gotten his ass groped on the street by some drunkard who had mistaken him for a girl. Over the weeks, he had been stealing bits and pieces from clotheslines until he had a convincing maid's garb to wear and managed to sneak into the Claridge House. Once inside, he had gone not only for the jewellery, but for clothing as well, having long since learned that silk and brocade were not only gorgeous to the eyes, but could be paid for in their weight in gold.

  
  


The best way to carry a stolen dress was to wear it. That had made sense. He had ignored the tremors he had felt as the skirts settled around his waist one by one – each soft and expensive, sure to fetch a good price – and had reached for the corset.

  
  


Shaking the thoughts away, he sat down heavily on a chair once left alone in the cabin. It was dark, no candles or lamps were lit, but some moonlight came through the dingy window, enough for him to make out the outlines of the room. A large desk cluttered with things he couldn't quite make out, surrounded by several chairs, a number of chests pushed against the wall, and an alcove with a bed.

  
  


Fucked. Definitely fucked.

  
  


He flinched, heart jumping painfully when something slammed into the door, but there was only the sound of laughter, growing fainter and then it was quiet, or as quiet as, Loki supposed, it ever got on a pirate ship. His chest was aching, constricted tightly in the corset. He'd had no plans to leave whale bone behind, but in hindsight he wished he had packed it instead of lacing it onto himself. Wished he had stuffed it into his bag instead of feeling the expensive fabric tighten around his ribs, watching his shape in the mirror as it began to transform him-

  
  


_Thievery_. That had been his only goal in there. Thinking of anything else was unacceptable, and largely pointless at this time.

  
  


* * *

 

Once Thor was satisfied they weren't pursued, he set up a shift and gave the rest of the men leave to celebrate.

  
  


Opening his cabin door, he was cautious. He'd gotten punched by enough women not to underestimate even a lady.

  
  


But she was not waiting to jump him, she merely sat at his desk, very still, her hood still on.

  
  


“Evening,” Thor said and went around the cabin lighting several lamps. It was time to have a chat.

  
  


Once the cabin was sufficiently lit, he saw that her cloak was made of a heavy, soft looking material the colour of midnight, matching blue stone lemming the hood. The cloak parted around her knees as she sat, and the dress was moss green, glittering with golden thread.

  
  


Having long since learned to be practical at all times, Thor supposed that while he would aim to hand the lady over unharmed, she perhaps wouldn't need to be so thoroughly dressed. She would be safe with him, as he was not only in the possession of at least some decency, but also of limited interest in women.

  
  


He pulled a chair for himself, seeing her flinch when it dragged over the floor with a screech. He sat, facing her.

  
  


“I understand congratulations are in order,” Thor said. “Officer Harlow is a lucky man. I'm sure he will be quite happy to pay for your safe return into his loving embrace.”

  
  


She dropped her head even lower and Thor frowned. The silence was getting tedious.

  
  


“Time to face me, Miss,” he huffed. “I am Captain Thor Odinson and as my prisoner, you will pay me due respect.”

  
  


When she didn't move, Thor growled in annoyance and reached out, pulling her hood back.

  
  


The movement brought their faces close together and the first thing he noticed were bright green eyes, wide with fear. Then he sat back and took the sight in, breath stopping in his lungs.

  
  


Pale skin, sharp cheekbones and black hair – by all means, she should have been a beautiful woman. Except, despite their elegance, the features were decidedly those of a man.

  
  


Cold shock settled in Thor's stomach.

  
  


“Who in the seven hells are you?”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Well, he wasn't dead yet. That was good news. They just about stopped there. Whatever ideas he'd had as to the reason for being taken – as to _a lady_ being taken – finding out that it was specifically Miss Claridge they were after was possibly the worst option.

 

The captain was pacing, rubbing at his face, occasionally throwing Loki a stormy glance.

  
  


“In my defence, you could have checked first,” Loki murmured, halting the captain's steps abruptly. He pointed a finger at Loki.

  
  


“The easiest way for me to deal with this would be to snap your neck and toss you overboard, telling my men that a lady's fragile constitution couldn't handle the strain and she passed from heart weakness, so perhaps don't piss me off more than you already have.”

  
  


Loki felt his own heart give a flutter of weakness at that, pressing his palm against his chest before he could stop himself, trying to breathe against the constriction.

  
  


“Why were you wearing a damned dress?” the captain demanded, crouching before Loki and pushing him backwards against the chair, tugging the cloak off his shoulders, spreading his hands over the fabric, examining it, and Loki with it, as though he couldn't believe what he saw was real.

  
  


“I was stealing it,” Loki mumbled, head swimming with brief dizziness.

  
  


The captain paused, hands resting on Loki's skirts. “Most street rats steal coin. Or food.”

  
  


Loki glowered at him. “I'm not a street rat.”

  
  


Why was this damned man so close? Loki got a good look at him. His hair was golden, shining in the lamplight despite obviously not being the cleanest. His face was tan and a little ruddy from salt and wind, but it only served to make his blue eyes stand out more. He was exceptionally handsome and Loki was sorry that he would probably end up dying by his hand.

  
  


It took him a while to realize that the captain – Thor – was returning his studying look.

  
  


Loki wetted his parched lips. “I can play along, until you...”

  
  


“Until I what,” Thor interrupted. “Drag my men into another danger so that they might forget this one was for nothing?”

  
  


“You're pirates,” Loki snapped back. “I would assume danger was a part of that.”

  
  


Thor considered him. “Where was she? Miss Claridge?”

  
  


“Visiting a friend. Every Thursday, like clockwork. I overheard the cook saying that the Misses like to get into the punch and she stays late. That's why _I_ was there.”

  
  


“Damn.”

  
  


“Bad luck,” Loki suggested and the captain's expression grew stormy, his fists tightening in the fabric at Loki's lap.

  
  


“No, bad luck would be not to find her in her house and have to go searching through the town for her. That I left none the wiser is not bad luck, that's _your_ fault.”

  
  


“I...” Loki started, then faltered. He understood very well the situation he was in. A man like Thor must rule over his crew with an iron hand, mutiny his biggest fear and danger, more than capture by the Navy. And, as dire as it was for him, Loki had to admit that his quick demise and prompt removal to the bottom of the sea was the best option for Thor to save face. The crew would be unhappy but no one could blame the captain for someone's heart giving out.

  
  


That meant Loki had to give something to save himself. And he only had one thing.

  
  


He saw the path of his decision before him, grime and bitter. It was his secret, his little pocket of hope that kept him warm on cold nights. The only thing he ever got from his mother; the only thing, apart from him, she got from his father. And now he would have to part with it and for what? That unknown flutter in his belly when he first laid his hand on green silk?

  
  


“I know of a place. A place of much more worth to you than any ransom could be.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Thor was sceptical, but this _Loki_ 's story was so far reasonably supported by the measures Thor took on his map, locating the coordinates that Loki rattled off from memory, gaze guarded and turned to himself as he did so, like he was sad to part with the knowledge.

  
  


Tapping his fingers on the table as he thought, Thor made the decision and rolled the map up, putting it neatly to its place again.

  
  


“You will stay here, speak to no one. Nobody should be coming here but if they do, you make sure to cover your head. And keep the dress on,” he said. No relief was visible on Loki's face, he merely nodded. “And if there's nothing there, if I find out you lied to me, you will die slowly. So if you did, this is your last chance to take the option of quick death.”

  
  


Loki wrapped his arms around himself, shaking his head. “It's there. And nobody knows about it except me.”

  
  


“That is, of course, quite convenient for you.” Thor sat down. His mind was already made, but he was in no hurry to head out and change the course. They were headed west, and the island with the supposed treasure was north-west of their current location; he could afford to wait a bit, to observe his unfortunate prisoner for a while longer.

  
  


Loki scowled at him. “Maybe one of us will be in luck tonight.”

  
  


“Luck?” Thor raised his eyebrows. “You could have retrieved those treasures by yourself, but now you will not get even a piece.”

  
  


“But I will be alive,” Loki replied. “Won't I?”

  
  


The question was likely meant to be flippant but came out a bit vulnerable. Thor felt a very, very small pang of shame. It was nonsense – his prisoner tonight was supposed to be a gentlewoman, a lady who surely would suffer this ordeal much more poorly than this curious man did. And yet Loki was visibly pale even in the warm lamplight, sitting ramrod straight on one of Thor's roughly built chairs.

  
  


Once Thor got used to the idea of a man wearing a dress, he had to admit the visage was somewhat comely, at least in Loki's case. He was naturally slim if, as Thor had already noted, still quite tall and his face had a certain timelessness to it that allowed it to be flattered by the richness of the fabric.

  
  


He wondered how it felt, the weight of the skirts and the freeness underneath.

  
  


“Captain?”

  
  


He blinked, realizing that he had been staring and leaving Loki's question unanswered.

  
  


“You know my terms,” he said roughly, discomfited. He was not prepared for this. The company of his crew left him perfectly unaffected, even that of Fandral and Hogun who could be considered handsome men, but this surprising presence caught him off guard.

  
  


It would take them a couple of days to reach the island Loki had indicated. Possibilities flitted through Thor's mind, tentative only as he had little inkling of what state of mind Loki was in.

  
  


He remained seated when Loki got up slowly, wandering through the cabin, peering out the window. The gold thread in the green dress caught the lamplight and reflected it; it reminded Thor of fireflies in a forest swamp. Now that he was standing in a lit room, Thor noticed the skirts were a bit short on Loki, showing bare feet and ankles. Thor's eyebrows shot up at the sight.

  
  


“Do you make a habit of stealing things with no shoes on?” he asked and Loki jumped, turning, glancing down as though he hadn't realized.

  
  


“It makes my footsteps quiet,” he spat back.

  
  


Thor hummed, crossing his arms. Loki was pink in the face now, chewing on his bottom lip.

  
  


“I'm trusting you a great deal,” Thor said. “Even though you are a thief, or you say you are. But there are so many peculiar things about you, I'm not sure it's very wise of me.”

  
  


Loki pressed his hand to his stomach. “What more is there that I can say? I was robbing the house. I was distracted and foolish and stayed for too long.”

 

The pieces connected in Thor's mind then. In a way, Loki was telling the truth. He had been stealing the dress. Perhaps he had convinced himself of the profitability of doing such thing, but there had been another thought at the back of his mind, a vice that had only been revealed fully once he had experienced it for the first time.

 

Thor felt a pang of sympathy at that. He also felt quite another pang, lower; in his trousers.

 

Before he could say anything, perhaps a word of assurance, Loki took a step towards the desk but he wavered on his feet, barely catching himself on the edge.

  
  


“I can't-” he said, his weight surrendering onto the desk. Thor stepped in and caught him by the arms, trying to steady him, only to feel Loki's legs give out further. Grunting, Thor hauled him over to the bed, sitting him down, and pushed him to lie back. When he straightened back up, he swallowed dryly. He had not expected the impact of that sight, Loki, who truly was everything Thor liked, messy hair spread on Thor's bulky pillow, the stunning dress doing his pale complexion many a favour.

  
  


“I can't breathe,” Loki murmured miserably and Thor sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning over Loki.

  
  


Then he fitted his palm curiously around Loki's waist, palms dragging over the soft fabric, enjoying the shape of him, the slimness he wouldn't expect to find in a man's body. Coaxing Loki to sit up, he let his hands drop to the skirts and found the uppermost layer of the dress, tugging it over Loki's head. It went with some force, snug as it was on him and with no loosening or ties that Thor could see, but Loki didn't protest and Thor supposed that since he was the one who had managed to squeeze himself into the thing, he should be the one to suggest a different approach if Thor was doing it incorrectly.

  
  


The revealed corset underneath was creamy white with pink and golden trimmings, almost as – if not more – luxurious and visibly expensive as the outer dress had been.

  
  


Thor could absolutely understand wanting to sell it. He understood less the tightness of the laces, tried to imagine what went through Loki's mind as he pulled the front opening shut and then kept and kept pulling until his waist began to resemble that of a woman's, until he had a seeming of cleavage.

  
  


“I think it was not only the value of the garment you had in mind when you took it,” he noted and tugged at the knot that secured the laces at the uppermost part. Unmoored, the laces slipped eagerly and the corset parted a little bit, Loki's breath hitching. Thor loosened it further and watched the flush spilling to Loki's cheeks. Even his chest coloured with it as his breathing became deeper and deeper, blood rushing in relief.

  
  


Thor tugged some more, the front of the corset now parted by a growing gap along its entire length and Loki moaned, a gust of warm breath hitting Thor's cheek. He paused, struggling for control, cock undeniably hardening in his trousers.

  
  


“Once I...” Loki said, gasping. “Once I had it on I couldn't stop myself from tightening it. I don't know why. Please don't...”

  
  


He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly together as though to stop himself from revealing any more secrets. Thor gave up any pretence of working on the laces, leaving his palm instead pressed to Loki's chest, feeling the sliver of hot skin between the warm, soft fabric.

  
  


“I don't judge,” Thor chuckled. Loki blinked up at him, eyes going round with surprise. Thor was struck, at that moment, by the visage he made, far more appealing to him than any woman could be, and yet in possession of some of the charm and beauty usually reserved for them. He wondered, briefly, what it made him, what it meant that he spent his life avoiding women yet was undeniably pulled to men who resembled them more than most.

  
  


Perhaps, all it made him was good for someone like Loki; Loki who _liked_ resembling them, whether he yet admitted it to himself or not.

  
  


He waited, seeds of a plan already sprouting in his mind, encouraged by his ever-willful cock. He sat more comfortably on the edge of the bed, grasping Loki's ankle underneath his hem and shuffling them until he was essentially seated between Loki's legs, all the skirts just waiting to be lifted, but remaining to offer an illusion of modesty.

  
  


His gaze found Loki's and while he said nothing, he hoped to convey his meaning through the look they shared as his fingers found the laces and pulled, tightening the corset again.

  
  


Loki gasped. Thor paused, trying to keep a smile off his face, waiting. When no protest came, he pulled and pulled until Loki was tightly laced back, struggling for air, cheeks flushing further. Hand on Loki's waist, thumbing around the taut fabric, Thor leaned forward and kissed him.

  
  


His lips were softer than any Thor remembered kissing and wet with spit. His stomach tightened with urgent want; perhaps too urgent given the situation, but he could no more stop it than he could stop himself from licking inside Loki's mouth, chasing heat.

  
  


And Loki was kissing him back, short bursts of breath slipping out even as he yielded his mouth to Thor. Loki was grasping at his shoulders, pulling Thor nearly on top of himself and Thor went happily. The skirts were in the way, stopping him from slipping further between Loki's legs and after a bit of fumbling, he grunted in annoyance and pulled back, rucking them all up and about Loki's waist.

  
  


Loki's eyes were dark and huge, slightly glassy with arousal and this time, Thor couldn't stop his grin.

  
  


“You look a bit flushed, would you like to get more comfortable?”

  
  


To his surprise, Loki laughed. He ran his hands down his side, over the curves the corset created, the movement fluid and enticing to Thor's eyes. “Not really. There is something to be said for the... discomfort.”

  
  


Pleased, Thor arranged the skirts more carefully out of the way and ran his hands up Loki's calves. He wore no stockings as would be expected and for a moment Thor was struck by the idea of how he would look wearing nothing _but_ stockings. He trailed his fingers over a long expanse of pale, soft tights and buried them into a patch of dark hair that surrounded a proudly hard cock, red and leaking at the tip.

  
  


“Damn,” Loki whispered when Thor took him in hand and stroked slowly. “ _Damn_.”

  
  


Hand curled around Loki's cock, teasing, Thor reached out to toy with the laces again. He felt the way Loki struggled to breathe, heard the occasional creak of the fabric and the bone inside it, watched with fascination the way Loki's eyes closed in bliss every time he managed to suck in enough air to bring him relief.

  
  


“You should never wear anything but this,” Thor told him, the words out of his mouth before he could consider the meaning; the implication.

  
  


Loki smiled faintly and didn't protest. Shifting on his knees, Thor bent down to run his tongue over the alluring edges of Loki's collarbones, tasting salt and silky skin. He nosed into Loki's neck, finding his rapidly fluttering pulse, sucking on the skin there, listening up close to Loki's little gasps and moans as Thor worked his cock and he fought to breathe through it.

  
  


He groaned in approval when Loki fumbled to push one hand between their bodies, cupping Thor's erection, stroking him through the fabric of his trousers until Thor pulled back and undid his belt, hurriedly forcing them to his knees.

  
  


He pressed forward again, grabbing Loki underneath the knees until his legs were wrapped around his waist and their cocks brushed against each other. Thor took them both in hand, head spinning at the sight. Too often he took his pleasure in the dark and he couldn't remember ever doing exactly _this_. In the past, it was either him or the other taking pleasure at one time, or at all really, especially when he was younger.

  
  


But there seemed to be no shame in Loki, not now that Thor assured him that he enjoyed the way Loki looked and felt laced into the corset as much as Loki liked being laced into it.

  
  


Loki's hand joined his.

  
  


“Let me touch you,” Loki asked and Thor relented, grasping Loki's cock while Loki did the same to him, hand hot and soft around his length. He couldn't help rocking into Loki's hand a little, head spinning with the pleasure of it.

  
  


The little bed cavern was hot and damp with the heat of their bodies and the sweat that rose on their skin, air slightly salty with musk; just the way Thor liked it. He kissed Loki again as they stroked each other with rising urgency and even when they parted, he stayed close, close enough to feel Loki's desperate gasps for air.

  
  


“Are you going to spill? Does this please you?” Thor murmured and Loki nodded in reply, mouth falling open. Reaching between them, Thor pulled Loki's hand away from his cock and pressed it to Loki's own.

  
  


“Touch yourself for me,” he ordered when Loki blinked up at him with confusion and Loki did, desperate enough to chase the pleasure on his own. Thor found the ends of the laces, urging Loki on with quietly spoken filth, listening to the slick sounds of Loki stroking himself. When his eyes closed and and his mouth opened, Thor's hands flew into motion, unlacing and unlacing until Loki cried out, sucking air in audibly and coming all over his hand and Thor's shirt. The corset fell open and Loki's chest heaved.

  
  


Shock was plainly visible on his face, mouth slack and open, breath uneven but deep. Thor pulled until the laces were completely gone and pushed the fronts to the side, giving him unobstructed view of Loki's chest. It was deeply flushed, with indents in the skin where the boning and the seams pressed in and Thor followed them with his finger, so fascinated he nearly forgot about his own cock, still hard and heavy between his thighs. Loki reminded him with a palm snugly wrapped over him and Thor hissed, his lust making him over-sensitive. He gritted his teeth through it until Loki spat in his palm and then gathered some of his own spend, slicking his hand and stroking Thor so smoothly that the pleasure hit him deep in his belly and he was spilling into Loki's hands, dripping onto his lap.

  
  


Thor slumped to the side, propped against the wall as to not fall over Loki completely. The familiar rocking of the ship was beckoning him to sleep, but he couldn't yet. Loki was looking alert, certainly more so than Thor felt and he was blinking slowly, eyes roaming over Thor, over the cabin.

  
  


“All right?” Thor asked and Loki nodded, although he gestured with his his hands to indicate their state.

  
  


Thor got up and propped the window open, grabbing his bucket to get seawater first for the worst of the mess. Loki rinsed his hands and then gingerly pulled the corset off because dealing with all those skirts, taking them off one by one.

  
  


Washing his own cock quickly and then calling for fresh water, popping outside the cabin to get it, door carefully closed behind him so that Loki wouldn't be seen, he finished his own bath and then left the rest to Loki.

  
  


He seemed to take his time, dragging a rag over his chest first, carefully between his fingers and finally over his thighs and cock, washing off the rest of the spill and the seawater too.

  
  


Where before, clad in a dress, Loki seemed like a dream to Thor, naked he was still beautiful and yet much more real. He knew he was staring, but he didn't stop himself, as he didn't stop himself imagining...

 

So many possibilities of where they could go and who they could be.

 

Loki finished his bathing and threw Thor a slightly amused look. “I considered many alternatives as to how this evening would go, but I never could have predicted this.”

 

Thor smiled. “Neither could I.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [thorduna.tumblr.com](https://thorduna.tumblr.com)


End file.
